Artemis Fowl: The Kurokaze Conspiracy
by NeppyMan
Summary: Section Eight of the LEP is tasked with suppressing the details behind the Ardagh Chalice incident, but are attacked before their operation can be completed.  The most unlikely field operatives must race against the clock to resolve the situation in time.
1. Prologue

Notes on "Artemis Fowl: The Kurokaze Conspiracy"

Written By: NeppyMan

E-mail: neppyman (at) gmail (dot) com. Please reference "Kurokaze" in any e-mails regarding this work, so that my spam filters do not lose your message.

Rated: T (Some sexual references, Mild language, Mild violence).

Spoils: Artemis Fowl, books 1-3.

Pairings: Artemis Fowl / Holly Short, Trouble Kelp / Holly Short (read the story for details).

Required Reading: Artemis Fowl, books 1-3.

Strongly Suggested: Entire Artemis Fowl series, especially book 5. Fan fiction "Artemis Fowl: The Ardagh Chalice", written by S'Eleene Paris (this story is a companion piece). The fanatic may be found on this site; document filters will not allow me to link it directly. My work is written with her full consent and blessing, and we are working on a third part to the series together as well.

Recommended: Phillip K. Dick's novella "We Can Remember It For You Wholesale". (unrelated to story, but important concepts related to the transience of memory)

Plot Synopsis:

After the resolution of the Ardagh Chalice incident, the predicament caused by Captain Holly Short's completion of her Metamorphosis Ritual comes to a head. The Council of the People tasks Section Eight with the suppression of the details, but they are attacked by a mysterious organization known only as Kurokaze. The remaining members of the L.E.P. and Section Eight must get to the bottom of the conspiracy, but time is running out. The most unlikely operatives will take to the field to solve the mystery, but can they do so and complete Section Eight's original mandate in time?

Disclaimer:

All legal rights to Artemis Fowl, and anything associated with it, belong to Eoin Colfer. I make no claim to anything, even the characters that I have created for this work – if he wishes to lay claim to them, he is certainly within his rights to do so. This is fan-written fiction, and as such should not be sold for any reason. It may be redistributed, provided that no changes are made and this introduction is kept intact.

* * *

Prologue

**Chambers of the Council of the People, Haven City**

"She did _what_?" The fairy was almost shouting, as he leaned forward in his chair and banged his fist on the table.

"Captain Holly Short completed her Metamorphosis Ritual with the human Artemis Fowl," Commander Root stated, with a slight smirk on his face.

"Explain this, Commander," Council member Rufus Smedley replied, his plump face growing flush. He tossed his head angrily, throwing his hair off of his forehead. He was just as stout as Root, and seemed to be having difficulty breathing at the moment.

"As the Council knows," Root answered, with a slight sigh, "the Lower Elements Police Recon division captured the pixie Opal Koboi, who had stolen the Ardagh Chalice, a human artifact. She attempted to blame the theft on the human Artemis Fowl, with whom the Lower Elements Police have had dealings in the past. During -"

"Get on with it, Commander!" Smedley sneered, cutting him off.

"Council Member, please," added a softer, female voice. "You asked the Commander to explain; let him do so."

Smedley said nothing, but merely grunted.

"Thank you, Wing Commander Vinyáya," Root said, brushing a bead of sweat off of his forehead. "As I was saying, during the course of the investigation, Captain Holly Short was entering the third stage of her Metamorphosis. Due to the untimely death of her parents, the Contract that was arranged for her had been canceled, and she had no arranged mate."

He paused, allowing the circumstances to sink in. "When the troll attacked the L.E.P. Headquarters building, Captain Short and Artemis Fowl were in a nearby café and were chased into the ruins of Tir Na Nog. While trapped, it became apparent that if the Ritual were not performed immediately, she would die. She chose to perform the Ritual with Artemis Fowl. At this point, the two of them were captured by Opal Koboi. Upon her return to the L.E.P. Headquarters, she was escorted to Burdeh Memorial Hospital to complete her Metamorphosis. She is currently on a temporary leave of absence from the L.E.P. while she convalesces."

Root stood up a bit straighter as he finished his recital. He looked straight at Smedley, who was even redder than Root's "working" coloring. This did not bode well.

Smedley sank back into his chair, an ugly look on his face. "Commander Root, your Captain Short has been under investigation by your Internal Affairs department no less than three times. Her so-called exploits with the humans have even gone so far as to make her the subject of a television program. I believe they are trying to get that horrid Skylar Peat to portray her." He steepled his fingers and laid them gently on the table. "Commander, this _female_ is a very public figure."

This drew a cutting glance from Vinyáya, but Smedley ignored it and continued. "What the Council is concerned with is quite simple. You are her direct, commanding officer. You clearly knew that her Metamorphosis was approaching. You may or may not have known that she did not have a mate; this is irrelevant. What we want to know is, at any point preceding this operation, did you in any way encourage your officer to take this sort of an extreme measure? Was there anything that you said, officially or not, that might have led her to this?"

_So,_ Root thought, _this is what he's after. He wants me to throw Holly to the wolves, and he's trying to make it easy for me._ "No, Council Member, I did not."

"Very well, Commander," Smedley replied, a greasy smile on his face. "And do you, as Captain Short's commanding officer, approve of her decision?"

Root took a deep breath. "Yes, Council Member, I do." A few gasps were heard, and Smedley's jaw opened almost as wide as a dwarf's. _The heck with this. I'm not going to abandon my officer, and damned be the consequences._

Root jumped into the silence before anyone else could speak. "More than that, Council Member, I support her fully. Despite her failure to follow orders, she remains the single most effective field member in the Recon division. Losing her would have be an absolute tragedy, and losing her in such an ignominious manner would be an absolute disrespect to the service that she has rendered the Lower Elements Police."

Smedley found his voice again. "Commander, do you realize what you're saying?"

Root swallowed. "Yes, Council Member, I do."

Smedley jumped to his feet. "Your precious Captain has spat on the Ritual that keeps the People alive. She broke all standard Contract laws, she performed the Ritual in an unpurified location, she broke the species barrier, and she did all of these things with... with a Mud Man!"

On the other side of the table, Vinyáya inhaled sharply. "Council Member..." she said warningly.

Smedley returned to his chair, taking a deep breath. "My apologies for the outburst," he said, not sounding at all sincere. "But Commander, you must understand the severity of this. With how many breaches of etiquette Captain Short has committed, should the public learn of this, the entire Lower Elements Police would stand firmly on the side of encouraging this sort of behavior. And the Council simply cannot allow this sort of thing to -"

Another Council member coughed softly. "If I may, Council Member Smedley..."

"Yes, of course, Chairman Bavol."

Ciaran Bavol stood, stretching his slight frame. His dark hair and glasses made him look very bookish, an appearance that was quite justified, as he was the head of the Council and had earned his place through diligent research into the lore of the People. He was widely acknowledged as the single greatest expert currently alive, perhaps ever.

"Council Member Smedley has perhaps overstated the severity of Captain Short's actions." Bavol took off his glasses and began to clean them with a cloth he pulled from his back pocket. "But at the same time, we do have a serious situation here. Commander Root, how many of the People would you say know of the circumstances here?"

Root thought for a moment. "Myself, Specialist Foaly, and Major Trouble Kelp, for certain. Captain Short, obviously. Possibly Major Kelp's brother, Lieutenant J.G. Grub Kelp. I doubt anyone else would know about it; we did our best to keep it quiet."

Bavol blinked slowly, putting his cleaning cloth back in his pocket and perching his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. "Unfortunately, Commander, that's not quite what we're dealing with here."

Root swallowed. "How bad is it?"

Bavol returned to his seat, looking over at Wing Commander Vinyáya. "Council Member Vinyáya, this is your department. We are going to need to take steps to ensure that word of this does not reach the general population."

She nodded. "Who talked?"

Bavol sighed. "Grub."

"D'Avrit," Root and Vinyáya said as one.


	2. Chapter 1

Notes on Chapter 1:

Firstly, in case you didn't notice, I'm a stickler for details and continuity. As such, on a recent re-read of the books, I discovered that the Council Chairman was named in both books 3 and 4 (in between such being where this story takes place), so I had to demote Bavol to Council archivist. This was edited into the prologue; it doesn't change the story at all, other than changing his title.

Secondly, some people asked me about the summary of "Ardagh Chalice" that Root gives to the Council in the prologue. Yes, there are some details mentioned there that are not yet posted in S'Eleene Paris's story yet. As of this posting, she has mostly finished Chapter 8 of her "Ardagh Chalice", which contains most of what I've mentioned. Should I need to modify anything further for continuity, I will do so. I apologize if anyone got part of her story spoiled by reading my prologue.

Thirdly, I hae added another pairing to the mix: Root/Vinyáya I was debating it for a while with a few scenes that I have planned, and S'Eleene Paris convinced me to go ahead and make it a full-fledged pairing-off. The beginnings of the flirtation can be found in this chapter.

Lastly, I have my entire plot summary finished, so I will be proceeding with the writing in an orderly fashion, excepting holidays (such as last week) where I get busy cooking and spending time with the family. So you can expect regular updates of chapters approximately this length (10 pages when paragraph spaced in OpenOffice). I expect there to be thirteen chapters, plus a prologue and an epilogue. There may be a few more chapters, depending on how long some of the scenes towards the end wind up being.

* * *

**Chapter 1 – Damage Control**

**Antechamber near the Council Chambers**

"So," Wing Commander Vinyáya said, settling into a comfortable chair, "I assume you know why the Council designated me to handle this situation?"

Commander Root nodded, seating himself across a table from her. "You head up Section Eight."

She smiled back. "Indeed I do, and there is no group of the People better equipped or trained for this sort of predicament. How much do you know about us?"

"Not a lot. I know you're part of the L.E.P., but only just. You handle high-risk and high-security missions. There are rumors about a broader mandate, but I haven't heard anything official."

Vinyáya nodded. "You're quite well-informed, Commander. Indeed, we do have a larger mandate, but since it does not relate to the task at hand, there is no need to get into the details. Suffice it to say that we have the resources and freedom of action necessary for handling situations like this. However, I do not want to exclude the L.E.P. Recon division from this entirely, especially since one of your officers is at the center."

"I appreciate that, Council Member."

"I'm going to ask you a rhetorical question, Commander. What are the two rules that no fairy is allowed to break, even members of the L.E.P.?"

Root blinked. "Using the _mesmer_ or mind-wipe technology on another fairy. As useful as they would be to intelligence-gathering and rehabilitation, they are just too prone to abuse. Are you saying that... ?"

Vinyáya smiled wickedly. "Yes, Commander, I am. Because Section Eight is so close to the Council, in the form of myself, we are allowed to break those restrictions if the Council deems it appropriate. And in this case, I don't see that we have much of a choice, do you?"

Root shook his head. "No, I don't. But still, how are we going to pull something like this off? We don't even know how many people Grub told about this."

Vinyáya pushed a small button on the table. "Well, Commander, as his superior officer, I believe you can arrange for a meeting."

With a quiet knock on the door, a younger elf dressed in formal attire entered the room. "Yes, Council Member?"

"Ah, Qadim, thank you for coming so quickly. Qadim Kiet, Commander Julius Root of the L.E.P. Recon division. Qadim, if you would kindly arrange for transport to Police Plaza for the two of us?"

"Certainly, ma'am," the aide responded, bowing and exiting the room.

Root shifted in his seat. "I think we'll need to bring my technical specialist, Foaly, in on this. Will that be okay?"

"Of course, Commander."

Root smiled. "We'll need to have a chat with Grub, too. Let me take care of that now." He reached down to his belt and detached his field radio, depressing the Talk button.

"Root to base."

"_Base here. Go ahead Commander, Root._"

"I'm heading back to headquarters. Find Lieutenant Kelp and bring him to my office."

"_Aye, Commander. When do you want him to report?_"

"I said bring him to my office. Not report."

There was a pregnant pause.

"_Aye, Commander, he will be waiting in your office._"

"That is all. Root out."

He reattached the radio to his belt and stood. "Let's go."

**L.E.P. Headquarters, Police Plaza**

A closed fist banged on the door frame. Lieutenant J.G. Grub Kelp sat bolt-upright in his chair, quickly closing the magazine that he was reading. "Wh- what is it?"

A gruff-looking Sergeant stood in the doorway, taking up most of the space. "Root wants ta see you, Grub," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

Grub gulped, stashing the magazine in a drawer, and stood up. His chair banged against the back wall. "Let me just -"

"_Now_, Grub," the Sergeant grunted. "He sounded pretty mad. Don't keep him waiting."

"Right," Grub agreed. "Bad idea. I'll just head on up there, I think..."

* * *

A soft beep came from the doorway.

"Come in."

Commander Root and Wing Commander Vinyáya began to squeeze into the small room.

"Hello, Foaly," Root said, "keeping busy?"

"Always, Julius," the centaur said without turning around. "I'd tell you to pull up a chair, but -"

Vinyáya coughed slightly, and Foaly turned.

"Oh, hello, Council Member Vinyáya," he said, hooves clacking as his hindquarters shifted. "Sorry about the chair joke. What can I do for you two?"

Root stepped completely into the room, and the door closed behind him. "We need to have a private talk, Foaly. Is this room secure?"

"'Is this room secure,' he asks?" Foaly chuckled, pointing to a green light above the door that had gone on when the door closed. "As long as that light is on, Commander, this room is secure against all forms of surveillance that I know of. And I know all of them." He adjusted his tinfoil hat. "So what do you need to talk about?"

"Council Member?" Root prompted.

"Specialist Foaly, we have a rather sensitive problem, and we need your assistance and expertise," Vinyáya elaborated. "It has to do with Captain Short, and her Metamorphosis Ritual."

Foaly nodded. "With Artemis Fowl, yeah. That would raise a few hairs with the conservatives."

Vinyáya chuckled. "It did more than raise hairs. Some of the Council members used some fairly strong language. Unfortunately, they are right about one thing. If word of this gets out, the L.E.P. will appear to be supporting this sort of cross-species mixing with surface-dwellers. Personal views on the matter aside, that would discredit the L.E.P. in the eyes of quite a few of the People, and that's something we simply cannot allow to happen."

Foaly frowned. "I can see how that would be a problem. Listen, I know I'm a civilian, so you can't technically give me an order, but I'm not about to tell anyone about -"

Root cut him off with a wave of his hand. "You're not the problem, Foaly. Grub is."

"Oh... D'Avrit."

* * *

Lieutenant Kelp sat in a rusty chair in Commander Root's office. Like most of the things in the office, it was there to be used, not admired. He nervously twiddled his thumbs, trying to figure out what he had done this time to earn the ire of his boss. Admittedly, Commander Root_was_ easy to irritate, but this one just felt somehow worse.

He had been waiting for about fifteen minutes, and was starting to get skittish. Normally, when Root wanted to rake him over the coals, he was right there waiting to do the chewing out. For some reason, this time he wasn't, which only made Kelp more nervous.

The door slid open with a soft hiss, and Root stormed in.

Grub gulped. Root was very, very red, but was smiling, which meant that he was looking forward to this. Before the door closed, Foaly trotted into the office as well, heading over to the corner as Root walked around his desk. Finally, a _third_ person walked into the room; a female elf, dressed in a matte black uniform with no adornments or rank insignia. By the way she settled into a chair across from Grub and exchanged a look with Root, he could tell that she was in charge here.

And he was in trouble.

Root lit one of his fungus cigars and pointed at the female. "Lieutenant J.G. Kelp, this is Wing Commander Vinyáya, a Council member and the head of L.E.P. Section Eight. She wants to ask you some questions. I suggest you answer them."

Vinyáya brushed her dark brown hair off of her forehead and looked straight at Grub with a piercing glare.

"Lieutenant Kelp, I want to talk to you about the Ardagh Chalice incident. Specifically, Captain Short's Metamorphosis Ritual. Even more specifically, we need to know who you have told about her choice in partner."

Grub looked around the room frantically. Foaly was staring off into space, not really paying attention. Root was chomping on his cigar and glaring. And Vinyáya was looking very intently at him, waiting for his answer. "I... I told a few of my co-workers about it, just as a kind of 'you're not going to believe this' sort of thing... that's all, really."

Vinyáya blinked slowly. "Go on."

"Look, just a few people, okay? I can make a list if you want..."

Root grunted. "Do that."

"The problem here, Lieutenant Kelp, is that the Council has decided to suppress this information, due to the sensitive nature and the potential for embarrassment on the part of the L.E.P.," Vinyáya explained.

Grub's throat suddenly became very dry. "But that means..."

Root chuckled. "Yes, Grub, it means the Council isn't too happy with you right now. Have that list on my desk by the end of your shift. Oh, and Grub?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"Keep your mouth shut. It's not too late for you to go back on Traffic duty. Now get out of here."

Grub made a hasty exit.

Vinyáya smirked. "You enjoyed that, didn't you, Commander?"

Root puffed on his cigar. "Yes, I suppose I did. The humans have a saying: 'loose lips sink ships'. That Lieutenant needs to learn whatever the fairy equivalent is. Maybe a good scare will help the message sink in."

Foaly chimed in. "I don't think that one will ever learn the meaning of restraint. I'm still not sure why you keep him around, Commander."

Root shook his head, chomping on his cigar. "Sometimes I think his brother fudges his performance evals. But Trouble is too good to get rid of. At least one member of that family is competent..."

"Gentlemen," Vinyáya interrupted, "we should head to Section Eight so that we can start planning the operation."

"Of course, Wing Commander," Root replied, standing and stubbing his cigar out.

**L.E.P. Transport Vehicle, Haven City**

The transport rocked from side to side as the driver dodged flying sprites who were attempting to maneuver above ground-level traffic. Because the transport was large enough to accommodate an entire L.E.P. squad and their equipment, flying sprites were right about at eye level for the driver, who was doing his best to avoid the flying obstacles.

"I_hate_ this transport," complained Foaly, to no one in particular.

Root chuckled. "It's not our fault you can't use the regular bucket seats in a patrol car, pony-boy."

"Yeah, Commander, but you at least get to sit down. I have to hang on to these bloody straps while --- WOAH!" Foaly swayed off to one side as the transport driver dodged a particularly maneuverable sprite.

Vinyáya could be seen stifling a laugh behind her hand. "Specialist Foaly, I do apologize for this, but it's quite urgent."

"I know Council Member, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Commander, could you at least tell me why I have to get dragged along like this?"

Root shot a glance at Vinyáya, who nodded.

"Foaly, we need your technical expertise on this one. You know the situation, but you don't know all of it. Let's just say that Section Eight can go a bit above and beyond what the L.E.P. is normally allowed to do as far as memory modification. Those people on Grub's list are going to be in for a visit from some experts. And we need your help making sure that it not only goes well, but that nobody remembers anything we don't want them to. This sort of thing is right up your alley, and you're the best their is." _A little flattery won't hurt_, Root thought.

The centaur brushed his chest hair a bit, preening slightly. "Well," he said, "I suppose I can't argue with that."

Vinyáya smirked. "And our technical specialist is absolutely dying to meet you. He's a big fan of your work."

"Well, now," Foaly said, fairly prancing and suitably mollified. "I'm always eager to meet an admirer."

"Yes, admirer..." Vinyáya seemed to be enjoying a private joke.

"Anyways, Wing Commander, how exactly are we going to pull something like this off?" Root interjected. "There could easily be a dozen people on Grub's list, plus all the people _they've_ blabbed to."

"Well, we do have some advantages. I believe Holly is still being seen at Burdeh Memorial, is she not?"

Root nodded. "Yes, she is. How did you - Oh, that's right, you know Captain Short from her Academy days, don't you?"

"Yes, I was her flight instructor. She was a brash, arrogant, rule-breaker, and probably the officer with the most potential out of her entire class."

"Hasn't changed much, has she?" Root grunted, chewing on his lip, since L.E.P. vehicles were designated as No Smoking.

"No, Commander, she hasn't. But her staying at Burdeh Hospital is no accident."

"How so, Wing Commander? I was under the impression that we chose it for reputation."

Vinyáya smiled. "Of course, Commander Root. But where do you think that impression comes from?" She turned towards the centaur. "Specialist Foaly, you know who Burdeh was, correct?"

"Nan Burdeh. Council Chairman about five hundred years ago, left a sizable chunk of her money to start up the hospital, so they named it after her."

"Your memory does you credit, Specialist. That, at least, is the public story. In truth, she saw from her Council position that there would come times where the L.E.P. would need to use methods more heavy-handed or subtle than standard police practice would allow for. So she created Section Eight to handle the ... situations." Foaly and Root could tell that something was being glossed over here, but dismissed it as unimportant for now.

"Burdeh was a billionaire, and she invested her money wisely. Yes, she provided public funding for the hospital. But she also funded several private research companies and electronics manufacturing plants, as well as magical research institutes and archival libraries. Section Eight has unlimited access to these facilities, which – of course – are the best that there is. And the bulk of her money is invested wisely, with Section Eight operating off of the interest, and therefore receiving a great deal more than its public budget would indicate."

Vinyáya took a deep breath. "Obviously, all of this information is to be treated as highly classified. I trust you both, but I do not believe that any more members of the L.E.P. proper will need to be brought into the loop on this. If that changes, we'll handle it as it comes."

Root and Foaly both nodded.

"Good," Vinyáya smiled. "Now to the task at hand. We need to come up with a way to detain the individuals who know about this situation, and in such a way that a short absence on their part will not be questioned. We do have Burdeh Hospital available; there are enough members of my group on staff there that we can carry out the memory modification phase of the operation there. And before you ask, Commander, no we can't make an exception for Grub and leave him in a holding cell for the rest of his natural life."

Root turned very red, although he didn't seem to be angry. "I didn't -"

"I know, Commander," Vinyáya said, reaching over and patting him on the arm. "I was joking."

Root said nothing, turning redder and chewing on his lip more intently.

"Excuse me, Wing Commander," came a voice from the driver's compartment of the vehicle. "We're there."

"Good," replied Vinyáya, standing up as the transport came to a stop. She opened the sliding panel on the side of the vehicle, revealing a decrepit, abandoned-looking warehouse in a seedy part of Haven City.

"Welcome to Section Eight, gentlemen."

Foaly blinked and snorted as he squeezed out of the vehicle, happy to not be swinging around in traffic. "This must be some kind of joke. It's not my birthday; what are you two up to?"

Root grabbed a cigar off the case on his belt and lit it, inhaling deeply. The artificial breeze wafted the foul-smelling fumes away before the centaur had a chance to complain. "Cool it, pony boy."

Foaly grunted, but didn't respond.

Wing Commander Vinyáya walked over to a large set of double doors, ancient-looking things still on hinges, which were locked with the mechanical sort of device that humans referred to as a padlock. She extracted a key from a pouch on her belt and opened the lock, removing it from the doorway and tossing it to the driver, who had by now exited the vehicle. "Thank you. If you'll lock up when we're inside, you are dismissed."

The driver saluted. "Yes, ma'am."

"Gentlemen, please come in," she said, opening the creaking doors to reveal an unlit hallway, with a rusty metal floor. The walls had been painted at some point, but so much mold had grown on them that it was impossible to tell what color the paint originally was. As the trio entered the hallway, the driver closed the door behind them, and the lock could be heard closing with an ominous _click_.

Their eyes slowly adjusted to the darkened corridor, which looked even worse than it had initially appeared. Mold was growing on the walls, the floor was rusted, and there was water dripping slowly from parts of the ceiling. The only light was from Root's cigar, which cast a pale, red patch of light barely a few feet down the hall.

Vinyáya pulled a small box from her pouch and flicked it on. Clear white light from a halogen bulb illuminated the corridor ahead of them.

"That just makes it look worse," Foaly said, covering his nostrils. "Can we get on with this, please?"

Vinyáya chuckled. "Right this way, then." She began to walk the three fairies through a series of deserted-looking hallways, past torn-up offices and into the main storage area of the warehouse. It looked completely empty. She confirmed this by sweeping her luma around the room. "This place is perfect. Anyone snooping around would go nuts; there's absolutely nothing to see here. Or so it would appear..."

She walked over to a patch of floor that appeared no different from any of the others and tapped her boot in a particular rhythm. Suddenly, the floor began to lower. Foaly, having the advantage of four legs, barely missed a beat, but Root almost pitched over, and had to be steadied by the Wing Commander.

They were apparently standing on a hydraulic platform that was sinking into the floor. As the platform descended, they could see a brightly-lit corridor appearing below them. Finally, the elevator stopped with a click, and a sterile-looking hallway opened up, leading to a heavily-reinforced door. As the trio walked off the platform, it began to rise back up, out of sight.

Foaly looked around, clearly impressed. Root said nothing, but continued to puff on his cigar. Vinyáya walked up to the door and said in a clear voice, "Authorization Vinyáya, alpha four two gamma. Two guests."

The door opened without a sound, although their ears popped slightly. "Negative pressure," Foaly said. "I like the security already."

Entering the doorway, they could see mirrored one-way glass on either side of them, floor to ceiling. In front of them was a matching sealed door to the one behind them, which closed as soon as all three were inside the room. There were no handles or control panels at all; clearly this was a security intake room.

A recessed speaker crackled to life. "Good afternoon, Wing Commander Vinyáya. Welcome back, and greetings to your guests. Our scans show them to both be L.E.P. officers – Specialist Foaly and Commander Root, correct?"

"Yes, Sergeant, that is affirmative," Vinyáya responded.

"Very good, Wing Commander. If you'll please finish the identification procedure?"

A panel in the wall opened up, revealing a gadget that looked like a pair of binoculars mounted on a post. "Retinal imager," Vinyáya explained, looking directly into the eyepieces. "Also, there are a series of coded blinks used, which are completely unobservable by anyone except the one doing the blinking. Good enough for you, Foaly?"

"Yes, I think that would take care of most impostors," the centaur replied.

"Wing Commander, I'm going to have you to blame for his next budget request," Root complained, chewing on his cigar.

Vinyáya chuckled as the other door opened. "Come in, Gentlemen. We're done with security procedures, and it's time to get down to business here."

Root grunted and stubbed out his cigar, which he had finished. "About time."

They walked down the hallway, which looked as clean as a hospital. It was brushed aluminum and very modern-looking. Nameplates were clearly visible on offices and meeting rooms as they passed. Finally, they reached a name placard reading "Vinyáya". The Wing Commander pressed her thumb to a plate where a handle would normally be. A lock clicked, and the door opened quietly.

The trio entered her office, which was sparsely decorated, with wooden paneling and a fashionable-looking oak desk. As Commander Root sat in one of the available chairs, Foaly took up a spot in the corner, with Vinyáya taking her place behind her desk.

She pressed a button on her intercom. "Sergeant, would you tell Sweet Pea that I'm back, please?"

"_Yes, ma'am._"

Root blinked. "Sweet Pea?"

"Yes," Vinyáya chuckled, "Sweet Pea. Pixies sometimes choose strange names for themselves, don't they? Foaly, he's the fan of yours that I was telling you about."

"A pixie?" Foaly snorted. "I'm overjoyed."

Suddenly, the office door slid open. A black blur ran into the room.

"welcome back boss lady hope everything went well good to see you hey I finally finished that flashy thingy project I was telling you – OOF"

The blur ran headlong into Foaly in the corner, as it was trying to avoid the chairs to get closer to Wing Commander Vinyáya As it stopped, it became clear that the blur was a very fast-moving (and fast-talking) pixie, barely more than two feet tall. It took a breath, and got right back to talking.

"hello horsie anyways boss lady I finished the project and I hope we can use it and -"

"Yes, Sweet Pea, thank you," Vinyáya interrupted.

Root's eyes were wide open by now, and Foaly's mouth was opening and closing, almost in reverence of the sheer energy displayed by this pixie.

"Sweet Pea, this is Commander Julius Root and Technical Specialist Foaly. I know you've wanted to meet Foaly for a long time, at least. You'll be working with them on our current operation."

"ooh big horsey is Foaly I did not know that hey it's good to meet you I took your idea about time stops and used the same thing to store mesmer energy in batteries and I finally got it working after a few accidents with test subjects having all their neurons scrambled and ..."

Foaly looked over at Root, agape.

"... that was bad and all but we tested it on mostly monkeys so it wasn't really a big deal and all but anyways I thought you would be interested to know ..."

Root threw back his head and laughed. "Foaly, my friend, the best part about this is that you're going to have to work with somebody as annoying as you are."


	3. Chapter 2

Okay, chapter 2 is posted. Sorry it took so long; there was a lot of important things I wanted to cram into this one, and it took a lot of doing to get them all in and still stay focused on the story.

I've got some end-notes this time, because I'm trying to keep my headers short.

Firstly, I snuck in a whole bunch of references to various bits and pieces of pop culture that I enjoy. See if you can find them all; there is an answer key of sorts at the end.

Secondly, as I promised in my Metamorphosis story (which is surprisingly popular - go read it, if you like my work!), I offer a mathematical breakdown of the numbers behind _requiring_ female fairies to go through that ritual every twenty years.

Finally, some of the material in this story is _dark_. I won't lie; while the story itself is fun, some of the subject matter is both thought-provoking and a little creepy. If you don't see it yet, that's fine - it will show itself more as the story progresses. But there are striking parallels between some of the covert operations that I am discussing, and the kinds being run by the United States government at the moment. While this story is not written as a critique of those operations, I do certainly support increased oversight of those kinds of things, as this story clearly illustrates.

But enough about politics. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Section Eight**

**Section Eight HQ, Haven City**

Wing Commander Vinyáya leaned back in her chair. "All right, gentlemen," she said, "now that we're all here, we can get started. I don't have to tell any of you how serious this situation could potentially become, so we need to get to work right away. Specialist Foaly, Sweet Pea will show you some of the modifications we've made to your mind wipe devices, since we're going to need to do a lot of them, and quickly."

The centaur and the pixie exited the office, Foaly still shaking his head in disbelief. Sweet Pea's voice could be heard echoing down the hallway.

"okay big horsie let's go my lab is right down the hallway and I've got all kinds of stuff I really want to show you like the flashy thingy project and..."

Root chuckled. "He deserves that for all the hassle he's put me through."

Vinyáya nodded. "Geniuses are rather eccentric, aren't they?" She pushed the intercom button on her desk. "Sergeant, would you please have Major Kusaba to report to my office? And send up a pot of tea, if you would."

"_Right away, ma'am._"

"Major Kusaba," she explained, "is my Operations officer. He handles organizational aspects. We're going to start trying to come up with an idea for how to pull this one off. The Council wants a preliminary strategy by tomorrow's session."

Root looked at the elegant, gold-leaf timepiece on her office wall. It was going to be a long day. "Let me ask a few questions before your officer gets here," he said.

Vinyáya nodded. "Go ahead."

"You mentioned to Foaly that your people have made some modifications to the mind wipe gear. What sorts?"

"Well, we've managed to make the high-detail gear much more portable. You don't need to ship it around in a huge transport van anymore, although that won't matter much for this operation. We've also adapted one of Foaly's toys – the Retimager – to interface with our computers. Basically, we look for specific pictures, and have our computer generate a list of memories associated with those pictures. It speeds up the process dramatically, because the tech doesn't have to dig through the entire time period – just the flagged memories."

Root nodded. "Sounds useful."

"Definitely. And we're going to be needing it for this operation; if your Lieutenant ran his mouth as much as he's prone to do, we could be having to modify hundreds of memories."

Commander Root swallowed. "That's... a lot."

Vinyáya nodded. "It feels a little strange, doesn't it? Knowing that you're going to be slicing out chunks of memories and changing their lives without them ever knowing it, and all just to prevent something from happening that we don't even know would?"

"Yeah, it does."

"It's a dirty business. If the People found out some of the projects we've been involved with, there would be tremendous uproar. And yet, we've protected them from all manner of unpleasantries. Renegade Fairies, crooked L.E.P. officers, corrupt businessmen, even a few humans who have found out a good bit more than they should have."

Root's eyebrow had gone up at the mention of the L.E.P. "Are you saying... ?"

"Yes, Commander, I am. Not all of your officers that were killed in action were really killed in the kind of action everyone thinks they were. Obviously, I can't tell you who, but it has happened more than once."

"Turnball..."

"Well, Commander, you got lucky there. Captain Short pulled that one out of her hindquarters. We had him under surveillance, but he had too small of an operation. We weren't able to pick up on his move to Tern Mór in time."

Root shook his head, thinking of the memories of having to confront his own brother. "Part of me wishes you had been able to intervene. That was a messy clean-up. But I did get to have the satisfaction of sending him to prison, and knowing that I had collared him."

Vinyáya nodded. "I understand that urge for justice, Commander. But you have to understand something – here at Section Eight, sometimes we have to look at the bigger picture. Not what would benefit an individual fairy, or would bring another one to justice, but what is best for the People as a whole. If we'd bagged Turnball, he wouldn't have gone to jail. Not after we were done with him."

Root swallowed. "That's harsh, Wing Commander."

She shook her head. "That's necessity, Commander. We don't always have the luxury of seeing things in black and white. We have to take the best solution that we can come up with, and trust in our judgment that we've made the correct decision. The only reason why the Council lets us do that is because of how close we are. This isn't the first time that a Council member has been the head of Section Eight. There's always oversight and accountability, if that makes you feel any better. We have to prepare reports, both pre- and post-operation, on any major task we're going to engage in."

The door beeped, and an orderly entered, carrying a tea tray with a pot and all necessary accouterments.

"And speaking of, Commander, we need to get to work on our plan. Major Kusaba should be here shortly. Some tea?"

"Yes, please."

Wing Commander Vinyáya gracefully poured two cups of tea, passing one to Root.

"I understand your hesitation, Commander," she said. "This operation is going to be by the book – but not the book that you're used to. We really do have a set of rules that we have to follow."

"I know," Root replied. "It's just difficult to get used to thinking this way. I trust that we at least will be making an effort to keep collateral damage to a minimum?"

"Of course."

"Good."

The door beeped, and a taller elf entered. His skin was a dark chocolate brown and his hair was cropped close, greying slightly at the temples. He wore Section Eight's matte black uniform, and stood straight as a ramrod, saluting his superior officer. "Major Kusaba, reporting, ma'am."

"At ease, Major," Vinyáya replied. She leaned over her desk and whispered to Root, "He's just a bit formal – just your type."

Root colored a bit and sipped at his tea, saying nothing.

"Major Kusaba, Commander Root. I believe you know of him, but have never met. Would like like some tea, Major?"

"Please, ma'am."

She poured, and passed him a cup, which he took and settled into a chair, still keeping his back straight and looking as military as possible.

"I assume you read the summary I had Communications send to you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Well, because of the number of L.E.P. Recon officers involved in this situation, he is going to be involved in the planning phase of our operation. Also, L.E.P. Recon's Technical Specialist will be helping."

"Very good, ma'am."

"So, to business. Gentlemen, we need to find an excuse to have a large chunk of the L.E.P. hospitalized for a few days. There are some humans involved as well, but I believe they will cooperate with our operation once we explain the gravity of the situation to them."

"You really think Fowl will go along with this?" Root grunted.

"I think so, Commander," Vinyáya responded. "He strikes me as being able to see the larger picture quite well. Also there is the matter of one dwarf..."

"Mulch," Root spat, grinding his teeth together in frustration.

"Yes, I know you are upset about his release. We'll see what we can do, Commander."

Root grunted again. "Do you think we could feed him to a troll instead?"

Vinyáya threw back her head and laughed.

"Wait a minute," Kusaba interrupted.

Root turned to look at him.

"Opal Koboi had a troll attack the L.E.P. headquarters building, did she not?"

"Yes, Major," Root responded, "she did. We're getting ready to start the repairs."

"What if another one showed up?" Kusaba asked. "What sorts of security measures do you have installed?"

"Well, we were debating some sort of sedative gas," Root said. "That was Foaly's suggestion."

Kusaba snapped his fingers. "Genius."

"Good thing he's not here to hear you say that," Vinyáya chuckled. "But do go on, Major."

"The sedative," he explained. "That's the key. If there was an attack, and the sedative was released, there would be no way to discriminate between L.E.P. officers and the troll, would there?"

Vinyáya tapped her fingers against her desk. "You know, I think I see where you're going with this... all we would need to do would be to fake a troll attack, and the gas would take care of the incapacitation for us."

"Yes, Wing Commander, but I don't think it could be faked. In order to be credible, some people not involved in the operation would have to see it enter the building. Combine that with the gas, which is a perfectly reasonable non-lethal security measure, and you have a believable story which gets them into the hospital – right where we want them."

Root grunted, and looked across the desk at Vinyáya. "He's right. It's completely believable. All we would have to do is to get the individuals there, and I can do that myself. Just have a welcome-back party for Captain Short, and make sure to invite all the people who Grub blabbed to."

Vinyáya slapped her palm down on the desk. "Perfect. I love it. We can get just about everybody in one fell swoop. The dwarf and the humans we can pick up earlier, and have them all there for the big event."

Kusaba assumed a thoughtful pose. "There's just one problem I can see. The L.E.P. headquarters building is pretty large. In order to take that sort of measure, it would have to be a bigger threat than just one troll. One troll could be contained with sheer numbers. I think we'll need more than one, Wing Commander."

Vinyáya blinked. "Yes, I believe you are correct." She chuckled. "Boy, the Procurement people are going to love this one. 'Hey, guys, get us a half a dozen trolls. And make it snappy!'"

Root couldn't hold it in any longer. He threw back his head and laughed.

* * *

"okay Foaly boss lady said to show you what we've done to your stuff so just follow me and I'll show you everything we've done and I'm sure you'll love it and did I mention that it's great to finally meet you and I've always wanted to and -" 

Foaly let out an anguished sigh. "Please, Sweet Pea, try and relax?"

"but I am relaxed Foaly I haven't had any coffee in at least twenty minutes and I don't get all hyperactive when I meet new people and it's just that I'm very happy to meet you and show you all the fun stuff we've been doing and -"

"Okay, okay. So Vinyáya said you'd made some changes to my mind-wipe gear?"

"yeah boss lady said to tell you about that well basically what we did is take your Retimager and hook it up to our mainframe and then filter the images through a memory scan to flag images and associations for the tech to look through instead of having to scan the entire block of time which -"

Foaly stopped in his tracks, blinking. "Now that is an idea. Okay, Sweet Pea, I may have underestimated you. Go on."

Sweet Pea continued down the corridor. "thanks Foaly I thought you would appreciate that one since I know how long it can take to do a low-level mind wipe and boss lady said we're going to have to do a whole bunch of them and oh... we're here now follow me and don't touch anything..."

The pair had reached a large set of double doors, marked as "Research and Development". The pixie pressed his thumb into the door lock panel, and the doors opened.

They were immediately greeted with a bright flash of light and a roar of sound from one side of the room.

"LOOK OUT!" a voice shouted, and their eyes turned towards the sound to see an elf with a large set of wings strapped to his back coming towards them. Fast. The sound and light was coming from the back of the wings.

In the split second before he unceremoniously dove to the floor, Foaly could see that a large rocket thruster had been mounted on the center axis, behind the over-sized wings. The elf who was wearing them was wearing some sort of crash helmet, which was a very good thing, because he immediately flew over the prone centaur, and smashed into the corridor wall outside of the lab, at which point both he and the wings shut off, hopefully temporarily.

"... like I said don't touch anything Foaly some of this stuff is dangerous."

Sweet Pea took a few deep breaths while Foaly returned to his feet.

"What was that gadget?"

"oh that was the new firefly wing design it's for high speed chases but we're still working on the stability and I think the rocket is a bit too powerful and ooh you'll like this one..."

Sweet Pea walked over and picked up what looked like an over-sized neutrino blaster with an extra-wide bore and a shoulder stock.

"I know neutrino beams are great for stunning but sometimes they get too noisy and stuff and sometimes you need something a little quieter anyway I call this one the glomp gun but they want to call in the Liquid Restraint Projector or something anyway let me show you how this works..."

He pointed the gun at a scorched and battered target dummy in one corner of the lab, and braced the gun carefully.

"What's with the shoulder stock?" Foaly asked.

"well you know neutrino guns are nothing but massless particles so there's no recoil well this doesn't shoot neutrinos this shoots well let me just show you..."

Sweet Pea aimed and pulled trigger. In accordance with his preferred name for the device, it did in fact let out a soft GLOMP as a mass of some sort of material was ejected from the gun. The recoil could be seen, although there appeared to be some sort of gas braking mechanism to keep small fairy hands from being too overworked.

When the mass struck the target dummy, it turned from a liquidy blob into a mass of streaming tentacle-like projections, which wrapped around the helpless target in a hundred directions, crossing over each other front to back and to front again. With a quick puff of smoke, they fused together.

"like I said I call it the glomp gun that stuff is strong enough to hold a bull troll still until you use the dissolving spray and it's great for stopping somebody in their tracks without the flash of a gun and what do you think Foaly?"

Foaly walked over and plucked at the strands. They had already solidified, and were slightly elastic and very strong. A tentative tug on them produced no real give. "How many shots do you get from one of these things?"

"only four shots per clip but we have plenty of reloads"

"This has some use, I think. Now what about that 'flashy thingy' device the Wing Commander was talking about?"

"oh that yeah just a second here"

Sweet Pea reached down to his belt, which was decidedly non-uniform, and had hundreds of little gadgets and gizmos attached to it. He extracted a long, silver tube that looked similar to a case for a single cigar. With the press of a button, it extended somewhat to reveal a small control panel with a tiny readout screen, and a medium-sized optical projector on the opposite side.

"this is pretty simple actually we just took fairy _mesmer_ energy the same way you do with warlock time stop energy and put it into a battery and all you have to do is point it at somebody adjust the strength and fire away oh but there is one thing you need to be wearing some sort of reflective eye wear otherwise you might accidentally hit yourself with it -"

"That sounds simple enough, but what would you use it for?"

"well nothing against you Foaly but you can't use a _mesmer_ and neither can some of our other operatives who have broken fairy laws and entered human dwellings"

Foaly thought for a minute. "I hadn't thought of that. I remember when Julius sent Mulch into Fowl Manor to scout around a bit. If he had been able to use a _mesmer_ on Butler, that might have worked out a lot cleaner for us..."

* * *

"All right," Wing Commander Vinyáya said. "So we've got a basic plan set. Major Kusaba, I liked your idea about installing small sedative collars on the trolls just in case they get out of hand. We don't want any risk of one of them running into an L.E.P. officer. I'll start working up a brief in a bit here. But first, we need to play the Blame Game." 

"The Blame Game?" Root repeated. The capital letters were apparent from the way she had phrased it.

"Commander, you might not want to be involved in this part of the operation," Vinyáya mused. "It's probably going to offend your L.E.P. sensibilities."

"No, Wing Commander, I'd like to stay, if that's all right."

"Very well. Commander, the Blame Game is the fun part of operations planning. When we pull operations like this, there's no way to prevent word of the operation itself from becoming public. What we can do is to shift the blame for the operation onto some other party. And we have a list of individuals and groups that need to have something pinned on them."

Root sat up in his chair, a bit alarmed. "Are you saying you falsify evidence?"

"I did warn you, Commander. Yes, we do. Does it really surprise you all that much? How many fairies are you your own lists as being wanted for crimes, but you don't have enough evidence to guarantee a conviction?"

"Well..."

Vinyáya cut him off with a wave of her hand. "We have the same lists, and probably even longer ones than you do. Knowing what you do about our methods, it shouldn't surprise you that we sometimes pin made-up crimes on fairies who have committed others, but couldn't be nailed for them. It may sound strange to you, but it contributes to justice... it's the whole greater good thing."

Root shook his head. "That's... harsh."

"I understand your reluctance to accept it, Commander, but like I've told you, all our operations are subject to Council approval. We don't get to do anything like that without formal approval from a supermajority of Council members."

"I suppose..." Root mused, still not looking entirely convinced.

"Anyways," Vinyáya said, turning to Major Kusaba, "are there any obvious potentials for this operation?"

Kusaba thought for a moment. "Nothing comes to mind. Fallback, then?"

She nodded, and turned to Root.

"Who do you think has the biggest grudge against the L.E.P. right now?"

Root pondered the question. "Opal Koboi. We ruined her attempted coup and also shut down her attempt at blaming the Ardagh Chalice theft on Fowl."

Vinyáya smiled. "Score one for the Commander. In fact, in this sort of a case, the fallback is whichever individual has most recently had a brush with the organization in question. And in this case, the L.E.P. has not exactly endeared itself to Opal, has it?"

Root chuckled. "Not really."

"Well, all we have to do is pin this on her, then."

"But Wing Commander," Root said, "she's in L.E.P. custody right now. And last I heard, she was complaining about excessive headaches and fainting spells, and was under medical observation in the detention center."

"So? Surely she would have the connections to pull something like this off, even while in custody. Your security is good, Commander, but not perfect."

Root said nothing, and chewed on his lip a bit.

"Also, Commander, there's one thing you're forgetting. Do you remember how I told you that Section Eight is permitted to use memory-modification techniques on the People? Do you really think that we wouldn't be allowed to use that in order to convince the culprit that they had indeed performed the crime that we are going to pin on them? Nothing like a nice, public confession at a trial to deflect suspicion from our operation."

Root blinked and swallowed. Hard. "That... I can't..." He leaned back in his chair, face aghast. "You say all of this is done with Council approval?" he asked, tentatively.

"Supermajority, Commander. Sixty percent."

He shook his head. "I can see why you need to keep this sort of thing secret. Even thinking about it gives me a headache – you not only blame a crime on somebody, but you convince them that they really committed it."

Major Kusaba chimed in. "Commander, let me assure you that we do not assign blame indiscriminately. We typically blame corrupt politicians or other big targets, but if those fail, we can always pin something on a deserving goblin gang or other criminal that bit off more than they could chew. And while it might seem like this is a casual planning session, I can assure you that in my years of working with the Wing Commander, she does not take any of these matters lightly. We _always_work for the good of the People, and the Council is aware of each and every operation that we undertake."

Root shook his head. "The L.E.P. could never get away with this, but I think I can see where there is a need."

Wing Commander Vinyáya nodded. "Indeed there is, Commander Root. Indeed there is." She reached down and pressed a button on her intercom. "Sergeant, connect me to the Generator please."

"_Yes ma'am._"

Root raised an eyebrow as a different voice answered.

"_Yes?_"

"I need one word, please."

"_Wishbone._"

"Thank you." She pressed another button, ending the conversation, and pulled a pad of paper out from a drawer in her desk. "Major, we're done here for now. The Commander and I have to present this to the Council later today, but you are free to go."

Kusaba stood and saluted. "Yes, ma'am."

"Dismissed."

The major left the room, still keeping his military posture. Root shook his head, and turned back to Vinyáya, looking a bit puzzled. "Wishbone?" he asked.

She chuckled. "You've never been a part of one of our operations before. Every operation we undertake gets a code name, as do field agents for an individual mission. We have them chosen randomly from a computer dictionary by a staff member, who knows nothing about the operation. This provides us not only with a recognizable title, but also anonymity. If someone got a hold of Council minutes where it was mentioned that Operation Wishbone was discussed, it would tell them absolutely nothing."

Root nodded. "Makes sense."

"Security is the name of the game here, Commander. We take it very seriously. I have to write up this brief for the Council, but we don't really have long enough to get you back to L.E.P. headquarters and pick you up again. Do you mind staying here?"

"Not at all."

"Some more tea, perhaps?"

"Please, Wing Commander."

After pouring him a fresh cup, she settled back into her chair and pulled an ornate ink pen out from her desk. It was a work of art – made of cherry wood with a natural finish, lightly glossed and etched slightly with a leaf pattern, which had been painted in gold.

Root took a sip of tea. He was preparing to think about the situation and the ramifications of the extent to which Section Eight was prepared to go, but was struck by the beauty of the pen. "Where did you get that, Wing Commander?"

"Oh, the pen you mean?"

"Yes. It's beautiful."

She held it out to him, and he took it carefully, examining it in the light of her office.

"I didn't figure you the type to appreciate something like that, Commander."

Root looked down at the desktop, not making eye contact. "I used to have a pen like that. It was a gift from my mate, Vidalia. I lost it years ago." He handed the pen back.

"Oh... I'm sorry, Commander. I didn't mean to remind you of that." Vinyáya appeared genuinely sympathetic.

"It's okay. Go ahead and write up the presentation. I've got a lot to think about."

**Chambers of the Council of the People, Haven City**

"... and, in conclusion, we believe that this operation poses minimal risk to the individuals whose memory will be modified, as well as providing an excellent opportunity to shift the focus of the operation to an individual that the public will naturally expect to be involved in something of this nature."

Vinyáya took a breath and stood up straight, adjusting her notes. "Are there any questions, Council members?"

"How do you intend to lure the trolls into the L.E.P. headquarters building, Wing Commander?" one asked.

"We plan to have a device planted which releases a concentrated pheromone spray, and have it released in a gaseous form. This should ensure that the released trolls make a beeline for a specific location that we can thus easily designate."

"My concern, Wing Commander," Council member Smedley interjected, "is the human. Fowl. He hasn't exactly been cooperative in the past; what makes you think he would actually go along with this?"

"A good question, Council member," Vinyáya responded. "Commander Root, you know Artemis Fowl better than anyone else present. What say you?"

Root stepped forward. "Fowl is a realist. Despite his criminal tendencies, or maybe even because of them, he is capable of looking at the larger picture. I believe we can persuade him to cooperate. And if not, there's always Plan B." Root grinned, and patted the spot on his hip where his water-cooled, tri-barreled blaster would have been, had it not been forbidden in the Council Chambers.

"I still would rather simply subject Fowl to a blanket wipe," Smedley responded, "but the operation is sound. Motion to approve."

"Second."

"All in favor?" said the Chairman.

All around the room, Council members pressed buttons on their electronic voting devices.

"Motion carries. Best of luck, Wing Commander Vinyáya."

* * *

Pop culture references:

The entire scene with Foaly and Sweet Pea is a send-up of 007's disastrous visits to Q labs.

The firefly model of wings is a tip of the hat to Joss Whedon's show.

The glomp gun is taken directly from Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash, although he called it the loogie gun.

The "flashy thingy" is obviously a Neuralyzer from Men in Black.

Vinyáya asking for "one word" from the Generator is based on Admiral Greer's similar method of acquiring operation and agent names from Tom Clancy's The Hunt For Red October.

* * *

The math behind the Metamorphosis.

Fair warning, this is going to get a little intellectual.

Colfer has said that there are approximately 10,000 People living in Haven City. We'll assume that they are fairly evenly broken down between the species, and that inter-species breeding is not a problem (there was an off-hand mention of an elf-goblin mix in the first book). We'll also assume that fairies live to about 1,000 years as a "natural" lifespan. As with humans, some live shorter, some longer. We'll also assume that fairies are "fertile" for about the same percentage of their lives as humans. (Humans live to about 70, and are fertile from about 15 to 50, which makes for a nice, round 50.) And finally, we'll assume that the population is split evenly between male and female.

Still with me? Okay, good. Now let's take a look at what happens during one twenty-year period. Colfer has said that fairies can only reproduce once every twenty years.

We'll assume that the ages are spread out fairly evenly. This means that in that twenty-year period, fifty out of one thousand (1/20th) of the population will die of old age. That makes 500 people simply from natural causes. That takes care of the death rate.

Now for the birth rate. Let's say that each and every single fertile female conceives. If half of the population are fertile, and half of those are female, we are looking at 2,500 potential births. This is good, of course. You are looking at a substantial population increase, which would only compound itself over time. No risk of population decline there.

But let's be realistic. Does every fertile human female conceive every nine months? Hardly. In fact, according to the United Nations, the global birth rate is 20.3 births per 1,000 persons over five years. That equates to about 10 births per 500 females over a period of 6 2/3 gestation periods. For our purposes, this means that 0.3 of females conceive every gestation period.

For our sample of 2,500 fertile fairies, that amounts to 7.5 births every 20 years, if they had the same birth rate as humans. With this kind of birth rate, fairies would be extinct in a few centuries (no, I'm not working the exact length out - I'll leave that as an exercise for the reader).

Obviously that won't work. So let's go back to our original estimate, saying that every fertile female became pregnant. Even with the obvious impetus of species survival, this is still unrealistic from a social standpoint. Just to break even, 20 would have to become pregnant.

And the assumptions that I made? Well, those may not always work. The population may not be split evenly between races or genders. And while cross-species breeding may be possible, there might be social stigmas attached to it. Also, we didn't account for accidental deaths, which given the nature of the goblin/dwarf turf wars, might be substantial.

So we're looking at rather dire straights for the People here, assuming they want to stick around long enough to preserve themselves and the planet. S'Eleene Paris's idea of _required_ conception neatly fits into this. If a fairy female is not just socially, but biologically required to conceive, all of a sudden social pressures and such aren't quite so important. And it also would raise the birth rate enough to hopefully counteract the shortcomings of the overly optimistic assumptions that I started with.

So having fairy females go through the Metamorphosis isn't necessarily required for their species to propagate, it does certainly help lend a realistic impetus to the need for a high birth rate with such a long period between potential pregnancies.

Of course, the whole cross-species thing might not be acceptable to the more conservative fairies. And breeding with humans... well.. that's what this story is all about!


End file.
